


Merry Christmas, Everybody!

by Vetiver



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Coffee, Enthusiastic Consent, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Holidays, Ice Skating, Mistletoe, Mutual Pining, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28093041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vetiver/pseuds/Vetiver
Summary: In her first December at the Avengers compound, Darcy Lewis decides to go all-in on making it a merry Christmas for everyone. Bucky Barnes in particular.(Set in an AU where they had some close calls with Thanos, but everyone survived, nobody's on the run, and almost everybody lives at the upstate compound. It's the holidays! I'm hand-waving some things here...)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis
Comments: 82
Kudos: 309





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song referenced in this chapter, and in the fic's title, is 'Merry Christmas Everybody' by Stompin' Tom Connors - a song that gives a good sense of the sort of jovial chaos that I would imagine an Avengers holiday party to be!

Darcy Lewis had _some_ restraint. Sure, she’d been quietly assembling and updating a holiday playlist since the weather cooled down, and she’d been taking advantage of the Stark-grade sound system in her quarters to play it on the semi-regular since just after Halloween, but she’d waited till the _first of December_ to start sharing it with anyone else.

It still didn’t mean that Jane was fully on board with the switch from the usual instrumentals that she preferred in the lab. “Darce, what is _this?_ ” she asked, turning away from the whiteboard with a furrowed brow as Darcy put the playlist on shuffle and a particularly jolly country song came blasting out at a surprising volume.

“Sorry.” Cringing a little, Darcy turned it down to a more reasonable level. “Didn’t realize it was cranked so high. But it’s December, Janey! And I promise, the Playlist of Holiday Awesome is _way_ longer this year, so you won’t get tired of the same old things. This one was recommended to me by one of the weapons techs – she said this guy’s a legend in Canada. Stompin’ Tom Connors,” she added, after double-checking her phone. “I mean seriously, how fun is this?”

“Okay, I guess it is pretty fun,” Jane conceded. “And from the look on your face, I’m guessing you have a bunch more festive plans up your sleeve, now that we’re actually living with other actual humans. Well, mostly humans,” she amended, as Vision and Korg passed by the lab windows.

“Hmm, I’ve got some,” Darcy replied airily, as she sat down at her computer and pulled up one window with the data she’d been working through the day before. “Baking, decorations… figured I’d talk to Pepper about setting up a secret Santa.”

Jane raised an eyebrow. “Is that it?”

“Well, I _assume_ there will be a party and stuff. But if Tony isn’t already all over that, I will make sure it’s a thing. And maybe between a mechanical genius and a few people who can do magic, we could probably figure out how to have, like, a skating rink and stuff.”

“Do _not_ get Loki involved with that,” Jane warned. In truth, although Thor was back and forth all the time, Loki mostly stayed in New Asgard; he’d helped the Avengers on a mission or two, but most of them still viewed him with a healthy dose of suspicion.

Darcy didn’t mind him, though. “Aw, but this season’s perfect for him. Medieval Christmas used to have somebody in charge of being the Lord of Misrule; it’s right in his wheelhouse.”

“A little _too_ much in his wheelhouse.”

“He could do with some holiday cheer, though. Peace on earth, goodwill to men, et cetera.” Then she glanced out at the figure doing laps on the running track. Very fast laps. “Speaking of cheer, I know someone else who really deserves some.”

Jane chuckled, not even bothering to follow Darcy’s gaze. “Indeed. Tell me you’re not planning a whole Christmas extravaganza just to try and get Barnes under the mistletoe.”

“Excuse _you_ , Jane Foster, I am doing no such thing. We’re friends, kinda-sorta. I just want the guy to have a nice Christmas.”

All of that was true. She did want Bucky to have a nice Christmas. He’d come back from Wakanda just after she and Jane had come to work at the compound, and she’d made it a project to get to know the guy, after noticing that he didn’t seem to spend much time with anybody besides Steve, and sometimes Sam. Over the past four months, she’d gotten to the point where he’d stick around if she struck up a conversation, which felt like progress. She’d even coaxed a laugh out of him once or twice. It was nice. But she felt like _everyone_ deserved a little merriment – after the close calls with Thanos, followed by a lot of hard work trying to rebuild the Avengers and just the everyday frictions of a whole bunch of people getting used to living in the same place, even if it was a pretty massive, luxurious place. And she had no mistletoe-related illusions about Barnes. She had no idea which way his sexuality leaned, or even if he had any interest in that sort of thing with anyone after all he’d been through, and he sure as hell was about a million lightyears out of her league.

Didn’t mean she hadn’t _thought_ about it. Oh, she’d thought about it. Truth be told, it was hard to _stop_ thinking about it. He was the best-looking guy she’d ever seen – and she’d spent a lot of time around a lot of beautiful people. He had that soft gravelly voice that she could so easily insert into her daydreams. Hell, he even smelled nice, the couple of times she’d passed in close enough proximity to him to tell. She definitely had a crush – as evidenced by the fact that she was still watching him run laps – but she was going to just keep that in the vault. Or at least keep it in the vault from everyone except Jane, who was pointedly glancing between Darcy and the window, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on her face. “Oh, fuck off,” Darcy eventually said, though her tone was good-natured. “So he’s hot. Sue me. I still just want to give everybody a nice Christmas. Lots to do.”

To make her point, she tore her eyes away from the view and fixed them firmly back on her computer screen, opening up her email and composing a message to Pepper, with the subject line _First annual Avengers secret santa???_

She would make sure everyone had a great holiday. Including Bucky Barnes.


	2. Chapter 2

Although everyone had small kitchens in their quarters – or at least, Bucky assumed that they all had the same basic floorplan, given that his and Steve’s and Sam’s were identical – a lot of people seemed to wind up using the big communal kitchen off the main lounge. Bucky preferred it early in the morning when it was quiet, when he could take advantage of the fancy machine that made the best coffee, even if he usually wound up taking the actual coffee back to his own room to drink. Except for the occasional mornings when _she_ was there. Darcy Lewis. He’d already figured out she wasn’t much of a morning person by nature, but she and Foster kept odd hours in the lab and there was no telling when he’d run across her. She was the one who’d first showed him the secrets of the crazy space-age coffeemaker – and the one who’d shown him the secret stash of fancy flavoured syrups that he’d wound up becoming quite partial to, although he wouldn’t have admitted that to anybody else.

He was quite partial to _her_ , really. At first he’d wondered why such a gorgeous dame was going out of her way to be friendly to him, but he’d quickly figured out that she was like that with everybody. The fact that she included him in the ‘everybody’ that she was friendly with meant a lot, though. He’d come to look forward to their encounters – to the point that Steve and Sam had started to notice that he was a little sweet on her. It wasn’t like they were wrong.

Walking into the lounge at six-thirty on a Saturday morning, he really expected to have the place to himself. What he did _not_ expect was to see a nine-foot evergreen tree wobbling precariously by the windows, while a very quiet stream of curses issued forth from floor level. Coming around to the end of the couch, he saw Darcy on her knees, struggling to hold the tree upright with one hand while she tightened screws on the tree stand with the other. Giving himself a stern order not to stare at her ass – god, she had a nice ass, though – he stepped closer and steadied the tree for her.

“Jesus fuck.” Darcy looked over her shoulder from her awkward position, and her face relaxed a little when she saw who it was. “Scared me half to death, Bucky.”

That was another thing he liked: she always used his first name. She was one of the few who did. “What are you doing in here at the crack of dawn, trying to put this thing up by yourself? How did you even get it up here?”

“I am _trying_ to surprise people,” she muttered. “Can you just hold it there for a sec, so I can make sure it’s straight?” Without waiting for a reply, she got to her feet, brushing off the knees of her tights. “Hey, that’s not bad. Lemme just tighten it up the rest of the way and I think it’s good.” She crouched down and fiddled with the stand a bit more before declaring herself satisfied. “And I may not have superpowers, but I can still wrangle a tree home, thank you very much. Got it last night and smuggled it up to my place,” she added. “And I _thought_ if I got up at ass o’clock, I’d have time to get it all fixed up before anybody saw it.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you kind of saved my ass there. Wanna give me a hand with lights, since you’re here and the secret’s out anyhow? Or… I mean, you probably have to be somewhere if you’re up this early.”

He’d had a vague thought of going to the gym, but he could do that any time. “Can I make a coffee first?”

Darcy sprang to her feet. “Oh, dude, I will _make_ you a coffee. Do you want to get the lights out? They’re in the purple bag, I think.”

She was already across the room and firing up the coffee machine before Bucky could respond, so he took a look through the pile of colourful cloth shopping bags that he’d ignored earlier. Indeed, there was a purple bag with three boxes of tree lights, as well as green and blue bags that looked to be stuffed with decorations. “You bought all these?”

Standing with one hand on the fridge door and a milk carton in the other one, Darcy shrugged. “Figured it’s the least I can do. And it’s not like I have a lot of presents to buy. Just Jane, and my secret Santa.”

He frowned, as he started unwinding one of the light sets. “No family?”

“Not really, nobody close. And it was just Janey and I for a long time, more or less, so it’s nice to be able to do a big thing with lots of people this year. Doing this kind of thing is like my present to myself, really.”

Moving on to the other boxes of lights, he belatedly processed the other thing she’d said. “What’s a secret Santa?”

She gave him a surprised look. “Didn’t you get the email?”

“Let me look.” He never got much email, or at least nothing of interest, so he only tended to check it every few days. But indeed, when he pulled out his phone and opened his email, there was a message from the previous evening from Pepper Potts, entitled _Secret Santa._ “Huh. I don’t remember signing up for anything like this.”

“I think they just assumed everybody would be in.”

“Are you?”

Darcy laughed. “I feel like I’m only in because I suggested it. It’s not like I’m an Avenger, after all. I’m just kind of in the weird limbo middle where I’m not a superhero but I don’t really fit with the other lab staff either, because of living on base and working directly with Tony and Bruce and, like, palling around with the God of Thunder and stuff.”

In a weird way, he understood exactly what she was talking about, because he often felt much the same. He _was_ an Avenger now, but he still had a hell of a lot of days of feeling like a fraud trying to be one of the good guys after all the history he had behind him. But he shook those thoughts off as Darcy pushed a mug towards him. “Whoa. That’s quite a coffee.” It had a towering pile of whipped cream on top and a sweet aroma he couldn’t quite place.

“Eggnog latte.” Darcy looked pleased with herself. “With real eggnog, not the fake syrup.”

“Rum?” He seemed to remember eggnog usually being an excuse to drink rum.

She laughed again. “Maybe you could handle that at this time of the morning, but you do _not_ want me starting this early. If you like it, come and see me later and we can try a boozy version at a more appropriate hour.”

Bucky knew she was kidding around, but it had almost sounded like an invitation, like she’d like to spend more time with him on purpose instead of just running into each other by happenstance. Deciding to hang onto that pleasant illusion, he took a sip of the coffee. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“It really is, if I do say so myself. Picked up the eggnog from a little dairy in town – I’ve got a bunch more squirreled away at my place so it doesn’t all disappear from here. So, did you check who your Secret Santa is? It’ll be at the bottom of the email.”

“Guess I’d better.” Clicking the message open, he read the contents.

_Avengers Team Secret Santa rules:_

  1. _Keep it secret till gifts are exchanged at the team party on December 24!_
  2. _No trading of names and no hacking into the database. (This means you, Tony.)_
  3. _Price limit: $50. (This ALSO means you, Tony.)_
  4. _If you are unable to attend the party (e.g. if team is called out), please ensure your recipient still gets their gift in as timely a manner as possible._



_Your Secret Santa recipient is: **Darcy Lewis.**_

****

Bucky swallowed hard, glad that Darcy didn’t have enhanced hearing to pick up on the way his heartrate had elevated. “Does… I guess whoever I’ve got here, they don’t have my name?”

“Wouldn’t be very clandestine that way, would it? Now come on, let’s see if we can get this tree done before anybody else wakes up. Then it can be our little secret.”

He liked the way she said it, liked the idea of having something that was theirs, even if it was just setting up a tree in the common room. “Just tell me where to put things. Haven’t decorated a tree in about eighty years.”

They worked as a team to pass the lights to each other round the tree, and then Darcy put ornaments on the lower branches while he tackled the higher ones. “I’m putting the topper on, though,” Darcy declared. “I’ll get a chair.”

She dragged one of the barstools over, got up on it on her knees, and still couldn’t reach the top of the tree. Before Bucky could suggest looking for a stepladder, she stood on the stool, and managed to get the star onto the tree – but tipped the chair in the process, and would have tumbled to the floor if he hadn’t had the reflexes to catch her, one arm round her back as she scrabbled to get her feet back under her.

“Oh my god. Thank you,” she said, covering her face as her cheeks went bright pink. “I swear I’m not usually such a disaster. Sorry for landing on you.”

“Much nicer than most things that land on me, in my line of work.” He stepped back, realizing that he was crowding her, but he knew he wasn’t going to forget that moment any time soon. Having her body against his, even for an awkward half-second, was something he suspected would come back to feature in some guilty fantasies later. “The tree’s beautiful,” he added, looking for something safe to turn to.

“It is, isn’t it? Good thing I didn’t knock it all down,” Darcy added. Then she turned to him with a smile. “We make a good team.”


	3. Chapter 3

Darcy exhaled heavily, growing increasingly discouraged as she paged through different sites looking for ideas, and wondering if she’d been nuts to suggest including the _whole_ team on the Secret Santa. What in the fresh hell was she supposed to give Loki for Christmas, honestly? Taking a sip of her tea, she decided to take a different tack and consider gag gifts. He _was_ the God of Mischief, after all.

It wasn’t that she really minded. She’d have overthought anybody else’s gift too: it was just part of the gift-giving experience as far as she was concerned. And she’d known the odds were against her drawing Bucky’s name, as much as she’d kind of wanted to. With a sigh, she thought again about that ridiculous moment on Saturday morning, literally _falling onto_ the poor guy. When he’d been such a good sport about randomly helping her with the tree at the crack of dawn on a weekend, too. And then ‘ _we make a good team’_ … of all the cringey lines to lay on him. She blamed hormones, or pheromones, or something: his proximity just seemed to scramble her brain at times, and Saturday morning had definitely been the longest interaction she’d had with the guy.

“I am really gonna get nothing more done this afternoon,” she announced to the empty lab. It was Friday afternoon, Jane was away in New Asgard for a couple of days, Bruce was off giving a science talk at NYU, and Tony… Tony was outside with Wanda, actually for-real building the ice rink that Darcy had tossed out as a wildly out-there suggestion. So she didn’t feel too guilty for spending the last hour of her day looking up Buzzfeed lists of ‘the best prank gifts’.

Just when an idea finally struck her, she was startled by a rap at the open door. After quickly minimizing everything on her screen, she spun around in her chair and almost did a double-take when she saw Bucky there. “Well, damn. This is a pleasant surprise.”

He looked a little sheepish, and somehow that managed to be surprisingly hot. “I, uh… I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“Nope. It’s dead as a doornail here. I just need to run one more check on all Jane’s experiments that are running, and make sure nothing’s gonna blow up while she’s out of town. What’s up?”

Bucky pushed his hair back off his face, and held out a small paper bag. “Had to be in the city today, and got you something.”

“Really?” God, she sounded squeaky. She knew she didn’t have a lot of cool at the best of times, but damned if Bucky Barnes didn’t have a knack for making the rest of it fly right out the window just by existing in her vicinity.

He finally stepped across the threshold, and put the bag into her hands. It had a candy-shop logo on it. “They had a chalkboard outside saying they made eggnog fudge. Reminded me of that coffee the other day.”

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest guy in the universe?” She took a peek into the bag at the slab of cream-coloured fudge, then set it down on her desk. “Speaking of coffee, I think I still owe you a sample of the rum-laden version of that. You got five minutes for me to close down here, and I can make you one?”

Bucky smiled, then frowned. “Fuck. I’d love to, but I’m supposed to meet Sam in about… right now, actually,” he concluded, looking at his watch. “It’s, um… therapy, I guess. Condition of my…”

Everybody knew that regular mental-health care had been one of the conditions of Bucky’s immunity for the Winter Soldier years. All the details had been all over the news at the time. And yet, she was still touched that he was telling her about it, when he could have just said he had a meeting. “Jeez. Wish _my_ therapist was only a walk down the hall instead of a forty-five-minute drive away,” she replied, mentioning it on purpose because he seemed kind of embarrassed. “Don’t be late on my account, then, but thank you for the fudge. Hug?” she asked, lifting her arms but not making a move towards him.

He closed the distance instead, and wrapped his arms around her for a gentle squeeze that was over far, far too quickly. “Can I get a raincheck on that coffee?”

“Absolutely. Hey! We should go skating. Did you see outside? Tony and Wanda are totally making a skating rink.”

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Is that why Stark texted everybody asking for our shoe sizes?”

“He’s nuts, right? I can’t fathom having that much money. But yeah. Wanda said she didn’t have skates and he was all, ‘well, shit, no point in having a rink if nobody’s got skates.’ So, yeah. If he’s got your shoe size, you’ve probably got a pair of skates waiting for you.”

He shook his head. “Sounds like I’ve got no excuse, then. Can I…” There was a pause, where he dug his teeth into his lower lip and almost derailed Darcy’s brain entirely. “Can I text you, later?”

“Absolutely. Give me your phone.” When he passed it over, she set up a contact with her info and texted herself. “Now go, before I get you in trouble with Sam.”

When he walked away, she flopped down onto her chair and spun around in a circle. James Buchanan Barnes had brought her candy, asked for her number, and it actually seemed like they’d made _plans._ Of course, she knew it was just as friends, but still… Friends was good. Friends who texted and made plans was a hell of an upgrade from occasionally happening to be in the big kitchen at the same time. She’d take it. Popping a piece of fudge into her mouth, she ordered the gifts for Loki, checked all of Jane’s equipment, and then started locking up for the day.

It was after eight by the time he texted. _Sorry it’s so late. Did you still want to go skating?_

_Sure,_ she sent back. It was a clear night, and probably the coldest one of the season so far, but she figured that might mean it would be less busy, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that Bucky wasn’t a fan of crowds. _Want to meet there around 9? I can bring coffee in a couple of travel mugs so it stays warm._

_Sounds good, see you there._

She had been about ten minutes away from changing into pajamas, but instead she started digging in her dresser for the thermal under-layers and cute sweaters and wool socks she’d accumulated when she and Jane had spent three years working at an observatory in Norway that had actually been above the Arctic Circle. Winter in upstate New York was kind of a cakewalk by comparison. By five to nine, she was heading down to the grounds with her skates and two thermoses of boozy eggnog latte packed into a tote bag.

When she got around the corner of the building, her jaw dropped a little. Not only had Tony and Wanda set up a rink – one that looked like it was probably regulation size for the NHL – there was an actual skating _trail_ winding around the lawns, lit up by long strings of party lights on poles. She could see a few silhouettes on the rink and heard the slap of a hockey stick, but the trail looked to be empty. Perfect.

Sitting down at a picnic table near the edge of the trail, she laced up her skates and took a quick test run, only needing a minute to get back into the swing of it and remember some fun moves. Coming out of a spin, she realized that Bucky was on the bench, sitting just where she’d been a couple of minutes earlier. “Jesus. Didn’t realize you were an expert,” he said, eyes wide in the low light.

“Few years of figure skating, when I was a kid,” she explained. “My mom’s misguided plan to make me more girly, I think.”

“Hope I’m not going to let you down. I’m pretty rusty.” He toed off both his boots and sat there in his sock feet for a minute, holding up one of the brand-new skates and turning it over in his hand. “These are a little different than what I remember.”

Gliding over, she stepped off the ice and sat down beside him. “Put them on before your feet freeze, at least.” It was twenty degrees at best, and he was wearing what looked like plain black sport socks, slightly threadbare at the heels. “Did you skate much, growing up?”

“Sometimes, when I was a kid. Not so much when I got older. Never wanted to keep Steve out in the cold too long, in case he got pneumonia. I know, hard to believe now,” he added, tilting his head towards the main rink, where Darcy could now pick out Steve’s broad shoulders as he turned on the ice with a hockey stick in hand, passing the puck to a shadowed figure that she thought might be Clint. “If anybody had body-checked him back then, he’d have snapped like a twig.” Bucky finally stuck his feet into the skates and pulled hard on the laces to do them up. “Maybe I’d better have some of that spiked coffee first,” he added, taking the mug she passed him, though he didn’t open it. “For courage.”

“You need courage to get on skates? Bullshit.”

Bucky laughed. “Maybe I need courage to not make a fool of myself in front of my date. It’s been a while.”

“For skating, or for…?” She couldn’t quite finish the sentence, scarcely believing her ears that he’d called this a _date._

“All of the above. However you were gonna finish that sentence,” he replied, not exactly meeting her eyes as he got to his feet. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

He really did look a little wobbly when he first got on the ice, so she gave him a moment to find his balance, only joining him once he’d gone a few yards up and down the trail. “Looks like that came back to you quickly enough,” she said, realizing it might sound like an innuendo but leaving it for him to interpret how he wanted. “This is pretty awesome, right? I guess I should have known Tony wouldn’t do anything halfway.”

“I like this.” They were skating side-by-side now, following the bends of the trail. “It’s peaceful. Skating in Brooklyn used to mean Prospect Park with five thousand other people.”

“I can see how that wouldn’t be your style now,” she replied. They continued in silence for a little while, as she debated her next question. “Is the Christmas Eve party thing… I mean, I like a big loud shindig at the holidays, but you know you don’t _have_ to go, right?”

“I’m not exactly the life of the party. But Sam keeps telling me I should try that kind of thing. Thought I might…”

“Might what?” she prompted, when he trailed off.

“Thought maybe if I staked out a spot in the corner, out of the thick of things, it might be alright. After all, I gotta make sure my Secret Santa person gets their present, right?”

“I’ll reserve one of the comfy armchairs for you. And keep your drink topped up, if you need a little courage,” she joked. “Although I thought that alcohol doesn’t affect you? With the whole super-soldier thing.”

“It’s not that it doesn’t affect me. Just burns through really fast. I’ll feel a buzz for a minute or so, that’s about it. Still like the taste of some things, though, like beer or whisky.”

“Or rum?”

“And rum,” he agreed. “Should we try that coffee, when we get back around to the table?”

She was just about to agree, when she heard another pair of skates coming up behind them at considerable speed. Before she could try to gauge which side the person was going to pass them on, Bucky moved like lightning, grabbing her coat sleeve and spinning them around so his body was between her and whoever was coming. And she wasn’t sure which one of them overbalanced – maybe both – but the next thing she knew she was on her back, Bucky’s gloved right hand moving up just in time to keep the back of her skull off the ice as he landed on top of her.

“Oh god, guys, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you guys till it was too late. Are you okay?” Darcy was vaguely aware of Scott Lang babbling out an apology above them, but it was a little hard to pay attention to anything but the fact that Bucky was half on top of her, his chest against hers and his startled face just inches away.

Ignoring Scott, Bucky pulled his weight off Darcy and moved onto his knees, helping her to a sitting position. “You alright, doll?”

“Yeah. Falling’s part of skating. It’s okay, dude,” she added, looking up at Scott and waving him off. “Maybe just make sure the track’s clear next time you want to play Olympic speed skating, alright?”

After about four more apologies, Scott finally skated off and left them alone. “Are _you_ okay?” she asked. The ice was starting to chill her ass, but she was more concerned about how extremely still Bucky had become. “Do you want to call it a night?”

That seemed to snap him out of it, and he got up, helping her to her feet. “Shit, I’m sorry. Reflexes still… get the better of me, sometimes.”

“Hey, I almost knocked myself out putting the star on the Christmas tree. And besides, it’s been a long time since I last had a hot guy on top of me,” she added, before her internal filter could engage. It got a smile out of Bucky – a disbelieving one and a shake of the head, but a smile – so she decided her filter could go to hell. “Now come on, I seem to remember something about having those coffees I brought?”

“Alright.” But he stayed still, cocking his head to the side as his gaze focused on Darcy’s coat. For a second she thought he might be checking out her boobs – not that you could really see any of her shape with her winter coat and a big bulky sweater in the way – but he raised a gloved hand and gently touched the pin on her lapel, a vintage rhinestone brooch in the shape of a wreath. “Haven’t seen one of these in a long time.”

“It was my great-aunt’s. I’ve loved all this rhinestone sparkly stuff since I was a kid,” she replied. “I kind of collect it now, or at least I can never resist if I’m passing by a vintage store, even if it mostly winds up sitting in my jewelry box.”

“Didn’t think anybody still liked that old stuff.”

She grinned up at him. “I like all kinds of old stuff.”


	4. Chapter 4

The party was due to start at six o’clock on Christmas Eve. It was currently a quarter to four and the compound was just coming into view out the window of the quinjet. “It’s a goddamn Christmas miracle,” Sam joked. “Might even have time for a shower first.”

“That’s taking an optimistic view of how quick debrief is gonna be,” Rhodes replied, looking out at the snow. “Or an optimistic view of how quick you can take a shower.”

They’d been in Alaska for eight days, snuffing out a Hydra cell outside of Juneau, and as much as Bucky didn’t particularly believe in miracles, he was definitely glad they were going to be back in time. Darcy would’ve been crushed if two-thirds of the team had missed it after she’d gone to so much work to try and put together a Christmas for everybody. And he couldn’t help wondering if she would have been particularly disappointed if _he_ had missed it. He hadn’t had a chance to see her much after the skating night, but he was starting to get the feeling that maybe, just maybe, his feelings about Darcy might not be completely one-sided. Now _that_ would be an actual goddamn miracle.

Given that they were in visual range of the base, he figured it was fair game to switch his phone back on again. There were three texts waiting, all of them from Darcy.

_Hey, feel like another skate? Seems freakishly quiet around today, so might be a good time for it?_

_Never mind, I just heard that you got called out. Be safe, smash lots of bad guys._

_Shit, it looks like this is going to be a long one, huh? We’ll do another Xmas whenever you all get back. Hope you’re okay._

The last one had been sent earlier that day. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to relay mission info to civilians, but fuck it, anybody who looked out the northwest windows would see the jet coming in by this point: he typed out a reply to her. _Just about back. Gotta do debrief, so might be late, but we’ll be there for the party._

_BEST NEWS EVER_ , she replied, almost immediately. _See you soon!_

Thankfully, a lot of the intel had already been relayed to Hill and Fury in real time, so debrief didn’t drag on as long as it might have; by ten to six Bucky was letting himself into his quarters and cranking his shower just about as hot as it would go, more than ready to get rid of a week’s worth of mission grime. By twenty after, Steve was pounding a heavy fist on his door. “Buck? You ready?”

Bucky picked up the little silver-wrapped box with Darcy’s name on it, took a deep breath, and opened his door. Sam and Steve were both waiting, each of them carrying packages much larger than his. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

He could hear music as soon as they stepped out of the stairwell, and a second later the smell of roast turkey hit him like a punch to the face, especially after eight days of field rations. “Oh, I am _ready_ for this,” Sam declared. “When I heard Pepper was getting this thing catered I was afraid it’d be some fancy shit, but this smells _good.”_

Tony stepped out the doorway of the lounge, somehow having managed to clean up and dress up and get halfway through a drink already, despite having gotten in on the same jet they had. “What’ve you got against fancy shit? Come on, get some before the Asgardians demolish it all.”

Stepping up to the doorway, Bucky let Steve and Sam go in first while he surveyed the terrain. The room was full of people: it seemed like the three of them were the last of the team to arrive. Thor had brought Loki, Valkyrie, Heimdall, Korg and Miek from New Asgard, Barton’s wife and kids were sitting with Lang’s daughter on one of the big couches, Jane and Pepper were passing out cups of what looked like punch, there was an absurd amount of food spread out buffet-style on the big table, and presents of wildly varying sizes were heaped under and around the tree. And in the far corner of the room, sitting in the leather armchair that had the best sightlines of everything going on, Darcy was waving to him across the chaos.

“Saved you a seat,” she announced, once he got close enough that she didn’t have to shout. And then she stood up and wrapped her arms around him, her cheek against his shoulder. “Welcome back. Thanks for still coming to this,” she added, more quietly. “I know you must be fucking exhausted and you’re probably peopled out already from whatever you guys had to do the past week.”

“It’s okay.” He held onto her for another few seconds, since she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to let go. God, she felt good in his arms. Like she belonged there. “Couldn’t miss Christmas, could I?”

“Sit down, before somebody steals your chair. I’ll go get you some food. Some of everything?” she asked. “Lots of everything?”

“Lots of everything sounds fantastic, doll. Thank you.”

It was only as she walked away that he really took a good look at her, all dressed up in a cute holly-pattern skirt and a little black top that made it hard not to stare at her curves. Fuck, she was a knockout. He hoped to hell that he was right about the chemistry, about that gut feeling that told him she might want to be more than friends – and he hoped the evening might clarify some of that. Maybe if there was mistletoe somewhere, it might help him make a move, if the crowds and his own head didn’t fuck with him too much. He didn’t see any, but he wouldn’t put it past some of this gang to have some stashed somewhere.

The food was phenomenal, and Darcy kept bringing him seconds and thirds until even with his enhanced metabolism he felt temporarily too stuffed to do anything but sit back and watch the goings-on. Being full and warm and tired and having a beautiful girl perched on the arm of his chair seemed like enough to keep his anxiety to a dull roar, and he was pleasantly surprised to find he was actually enjoying himself. Darcy _definitely_ was enjoying herself, even if he felt a bit guilty about keeping her hanging around in the corner when he suspected her natural inclination would have been to mingle around and talk to everybody. Instead, it seemed like everyone eventually cycled around to talk to her, and if any of them might be wondering why she was hanging around the Winter Soldier, they kept it to themselves.

“At what point do we open the gifts?” Korg asked, peering at the pile. “I’m not familiar with the custom.”

Darcy stood up on her tiptoes and looked around the room. “Is everybody mostly done eating?”

There was a chorus of agreement, and Steve started going around gathering up dishes until Vision stepped in and simply beamed all the empty plates and glasses off the tables and out of people’s hands, and into a neat stack on the counter. “Shall we proceed?”

“Okay, one at a time,” Darcy announced. “Half the point of this is to see what everybody gets,” she added, when a few voices tried to argue in favour of a free-for-all. “Peter, you’re the youngest Avenger. Do you want to be the elf?”

Peter turned red and looked like he was about to argue, but then sighed. “Okay. I think Ms. Potts said there was something for the kids? The _actual_ kids,” he amended, to some general laughter.

Pepper handed out gift bags to Barton’s and Lang’s kids, after which Clint’s wife told the kids they could go to one of the other lounges and play a video game if they wanted. Then Peter looked over the big pile of presents. “God, where do I even start? Um.” Bucky felt the nerves start to mount, as he thought about what he’d chosen for Darcy, but thankfully Parker grabbed something else first, a square box for Nick Fury that turned out to be a set of black leather bookends from Rhodes.

The next few gifts were similarly tasteful and unremarkable, until Peter announced Natasha’s name and Valkyrie broke out laughing across the room. “You might not want to open that here,” she called, which only stoked up everyone’s curiosity till Romanoff, her expression absolutely deadpan, neatly opened the wrapped box to reveal what Bucky assumed had to be some kind of sex toy, judging by the scandalized hoots and hollers around the room, the way both Steve and Parker turned nearly maroon, and Darcy’s comment about it being a good thing the kids were gone. What was a lot more interesting was the subtle smile and raised eyebrow that Natasha shot Valkyrie across the room.

“Alright, alright,” Sam shouted over the commotion. “Who’s next?”

There were a few more normal gifts, and then Bucky heard his own name, and a second later Peter was passing a long thin box his way. The tag said that it was from Korg, of all people. Curious – and not wanting to prolong the moment of having everyone’s attention on him – Bucky went ahead and ripped the paper and found a set of throwing knives, of a design he’d never seen before.

“They’re practice knives,” Korg explained, making his way through the crowd. “Unsharpened. Though you could sharpen them if you like, of course. They’re Kronan style. Thought you might like to try them.”

“Wow.” Picking one up, he tested its heft and balance. “These are amazing. Thank you.” Standing up, he shook Korg’s big rocky hand. “I can’t wait to try them.”

“Never drink and knife,” Tony proclaimed, waving a glass of something. “I feel like this is a very important safety rule.”

Steve got a small flask of Asgardian booze from Thor, Rhodes got a tacky Christmas sweater from Tony, and Peter got to take a break from handing things out to open a gift of his own, a set of some kind of precision tools from Jane that he gushed over until Darcy pointedly reminded him that there were still lots more presents to go. Wanda, Sam, Pepper and Thor opened things, and then Parker went a little pale as he examined a fancy green-and-gold gift bag. “Is, uh, Mister Loki still here?”

“Ooh.” Darcy patted Bucky’s thigh in a very distracting way. “This one’s from me. Where the hell is Loki?”

As if in answer to her question, Loki suddenly materialized out of thin air, making Peter startle backwards. “You called?” he said, in a tone that almost would have seemed innocent if not for the pleased look on his face.

“Loki, it’s Christmas,” Darcy called out. “Don’t be a dick. Open your present.”

Raising one eyebrow, Loki gave her a sidelong look. “You’re lucky I like you, Miss Lewis. Oh, and it’s from you. Let’s have a look, shall we?” He looked around for a place to sit, before motioning to Darcy. “Move over, will you?”

“Can I?” she said quietly, with a pointed glance at Bucky’s lap.

Deciding that he owed Loki one, and knowing it would be _very_ dangerous to ever admit that out loud, Bucky nodded. “My pleasure, doll.” And so she perched sideways in his lap, giving him a little private smile before turning her attention back to the God of Mischief as he took her vacated spot on the chair arm and reached into the bag.

“My compliments on your choice of wrapping,” Loki commented, as he pulled out a few sheets of green tissue paper before withdrawing a hardbound book. Bucky had the perfect vantage point to see that it was a volume of Shakespearean insults. “Oh, this will be _very_ useful.”

“There’s more,” Darcy said.

Reaching in again, Loki made a puzzled face when he came up with a package that seemed to contain several different sizes of googly eyes, the kind that little kids used in craft projects. “I confess, I am at a loss.”

“Here.” Taking them from him, Darcy pulled out a couple of eyes, each about the size of a golf ball, and shook them before handing them back. “Try putting them on inanimate objects. It’s hilarious.”

“Hmm.” Vanishing from the chair, Loki reappeared across the room and put the two giant eyes on Thor’s face. “I rather see the point. Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome,” she replied, with a sort of exaggerated politeness and a look that said that she was very pleased with herself. As for Bucky, he was pleased that she didn’t seem to have any inclination to get up from her spot on his lap – although he hoped he could keep his cool and not react _too_ physically to her presence.

“Um, Darcy!” Peter announced, and Bucky’s nerves kicked into high gear again as he spied the little box he’d brought.

“Oh, it’s tiny! This must be something good,” she said, and then he both heard and felt her sharp little intake of breath when she looked at the tag. “From you?”

“Hope it’s okay,” he managed to reply, his mouth gone dry as she meticulously picked at the tape so as not to tear the paper. Inside, there was the little box from the vintage store, and inside that…

Darcy actually squealed as she pulled it out: the rhinestone necklace he’d ordered, the day after they’d gone skating and she’d told him she liked that kind of thing. The whole length of it sparkled, with three little clusters of dark red stones dangling down. “Bucky, oh my _god_. It’s beautiful. Will you do it up for me?” Not waiting for an answer, she handed the necklace to him, scooped her hair up off the back of her neck, and shifted around on his lap.

Willing his cock not to react to her movements, he held his breath as he fastened the delicate little clasp, torn between wanting to touch her more and still not being totally sure he should take the liberty. And then he heard a vague buzzing somewhere over his head, and Wilson’s voice over the general chatter. “For god’s sake, Barnes, would you look up?”

There was a round of laughter as Bucky and Darcy both looked above them – where Sam’s little drone, Redwing, was hovering with a cluster of mistletoe. “Looks like we’re caught,” Darcy said.

His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. “Looks like it.”

Her tongue flicked across her red, red lips, and he felt mesmerized by it. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

_Here goes nothing_ , he thought. “Merry Christmas, doll.” Letting his right hand rest on the back of her neck, he pulled her down a little and then he was _there._ Her lips were impossibly soft, and just slightly parted, and her little sigh when they made contact would have just about melted him – if it wasn’t for an obnoxiously loud round of cheering.

“Point made, Sam,” Darcy said, looking over her shoulder at Wilson’s grinning mug. “You want to entrap somebody else now with your little toy airplane?” Sam’s predictable offense at her characterization of Redwing as a ‘toy airplane’ diverted everyone’s attention, and a minute later the sound of the drone withdrew in another direction, followed by some more cheering as Valkyrie planted one on Romanoff.

And just when Bucky decided the moment was over – that that was all it was, just a little moment, a silly holiday tradition with the mistletoe – Darcy turned back to him with a little smile on her face. “So,” she said, bringing her hand up to brush her thumb against his jaw, her fingers sliding into his hair. “Where were we?”


	5. Chapter 5

She was making out with Bucky Barnes. She was making out with Bucky in an armchair at the Christmas party in full view of everyone, like a couple of teenagers, and Darcy had no idea how she’d managed to be good enough all year to have _this_ particular Christmas wish come true, but she wasn’t going to question it. “Do you want to get out of here?” she breathed, resting her forehead against his when they finally had to come up for air.

“Yeah?” He seemed a bit dazed – but then, so was she.

The gift exchange was still going on in the background, but she didn’t care. “Yeah. My place? It’s a little more private.” Sliding off his lap and getting to her feet, she collected his knives for him and held out her free hand. “C’mon.”

Most people seemed to be too busy to pay much attention to them leaving, thank god: whatever this was, she didn’t want the bubble to get burst by somebody making a big deal about it or saying something crude. Not that she cared, but she had a feeling Bucky might. Her room was on the same floor as the lounge, just down the hall and around the corner, and almost shockingly quiet after the high spirits of the party.

“Sweetheart, what are we doing here?” Bucky asked, his voice low and soft. He leaned up against her door, after it closed behind them.

Darcy swallowed hard. Had the bubble burst after all? “We don’t have to… I mean, if you don’t want…”

By way of answer, he tugged at her hand to pull her closer, and wound his arms round her waist. “Oh, I _want_ ,” he breathed, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Trust me. I just… this isn’t just because of the party, and the mistletoe, is it?”

“Are you kidding me?” she replied. “I wanted to do this after skating. After the Christmas tree. I’ve wanted this for _months._ ”

“Fuck. Me too.”

His pupils were huge, and his gaze kept drifting back down to her mouth, and there were about million things she wanted to do in that moment. But he’d opened up the question, so she figured they should really answer it. “What do you want this to be, Bucky?”

“Don’t want this to just be tonight. I want you to be my girl. If that’s what you want.”

“Fuck yeah, that’s what I want.” And then they were both leaning in, the kiss bolder now, hungrier, now that they didn’t have an audience. Bucky’s arms tightened round her waist, pulling her right up against his body, letting her feel _exactly_ how much he wanted her.

And then he pulled back again, his eyes searching her face. “Are you sure, Darcy? I’m… I’ve still got a lot of baggage. You sure you want this?”

Reaching up, she ran her fingertips through his hair, gently massaging his temples. Her heart ached just a little at the way he leaned into her touch, and she had a feeling that it had been a long, long time since anybody had last touched him like this. “You’ve been through shit that nobody else would have survived. Shit that nobody should have _ever_ had to live through. I know I don’t know the half of it, but I am in _awe_ of where you’ve managed to get to in the space of a few years. So yes. I’m sure. And I’m not just saying that to get into your pants,” she added, feeling like maybe a little levity was called for. “I mean, I _do_ want to get into your pants. But I want the whole package.” And then she realized how _that_ sounded, but willed herself not to laugh. "I want _you_ , Bucky."

“Darcy,” he breathed. Then he kissed her again, a little slower, more deliberate, letting his tongue slide over hers in a way that made her weak in the knees. “Feels like a dream.” Another kiss, this time sucking on her lower lip and sending a rush of heat between her legs. “Can’t believe this is happening.”

She wanted to touch him, wanted to feel his skin, feel his hands on her, but he already had her feeling wobbly on her feet. “Let’s move this to the bedroom.”

_“God._ ” Bucky looked dazed and disbelieving, but he let her lead him into her tiny bedroom, let her pull him down onto her bed in a flurry of trailing mouths and wandering hands and the press of his hard-on against her hip through the layers of clothes between them. Far too many layers of clothes, really.

What she really wanted, for starters, was to get his sweater off, but she decided to start with her own things first. She’d already noticed that he seemed to go out of his way to keep his metal arm covered when he wasn’t in tactical gear, and between that and the fact that it seriously sounded like he might not have been with anyone since the Second World War, she figured it might kill the mood if she pushed too hard for him to be the first one to get naked. It wasn’t so easy, wriggling out of her top with him over her, but when she gently pushed at his shoulder he backed off in a split-second. “Was it…?” he began, and then he stopped, eyes huge and lips slightly parted, when he realized that she was pulling her top over her head. “Oh.”

“Oh?” It was a little intense, being fixed under that stare, and she couldn’t help making light of it. “I’ll have you know this is my favourite bra.” Flicking the button on the back of her skirt open, she wriggled out of that as well. “Thought it might be more than ‘oh’.”

He settled himself back over her, holding his weight on his left arm while he raised his right hand to stroke her face. Like she was delicate, like she was special. “It’s because I’m fucking speechless. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” His fingertips traced down her neck to her collarbone and paused there. “Can I…?”

“ _Yes_.” Pulling him down, she kissed him, running the tip of her tongue along the underside of his lower lip and shivering at the moan that he made in response. “You can touch me.” Another kiss. “Anywhere you want.” She kept alternating words and kisses, because she just couldn’t seem to keep her mouth off his: he was too goddamn delicious. “With either hand. Or your mouth, your tongue, your…”

“Fuck,” he groaned, drawing the word out as he slid his hand down to gently cup the curve of her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple through the satin. “Want you so much.”

“Likewise. Can I touch you, Bucky? Want to… nngggh… want to see you.”

“You sure?” But he yanked the sweater and the t-shirt under it off together, dropping them over the side of the bed before looking back at her with his lower lip caught in his teeth. “You want this mess?”

By way of answer, she took his hand and guided his fingers between her legs, knowing that he was going to find her wet, even through her panties. “You know I do.”

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Looking like he was hardly daring to breathe, he slid his fingers over the damp fabric, making her whimper. “I gotta be dreaming. Can I… Would you take these off?”

“If you were dreaming, they’d be off already, right?” she replied, carefully taking her necklace off and setting it on the bedside table before unfastening her bra and shimmying out of everything. “I know if _I_ was dreaming this, you definitely wouldn’t still have your pants on. But no rush,” she added, reminding herself that she wasn’t trying to push him. And god, it wasn’t like the sight of him bare from the waist up wasn’t already overwhelming: all those layers of muscle and the dark metal of his left arm, and the light dusting of hair across his chest and forming a trail down to his waistband. “You’re a fucking work of art.”

He laughed, shaking his head like she was crazy to say it, and then trailed his hand up her inner thigh to bring his fingers back to her pussy. “Want to do this right,” he breathed, just barely sliding a fingertip over her clit. “Want to make you feel good.”

“You’re doing it,” she managed to reply, arching her back as his touches got bolder, exploring her. “ _God_ , Bucky.”

“I want…” He kissed her collarbone, sucking gently, before bending his head to the hollow between her breasts. “I want…” Turning his head to the side, he drew her nipple into his mouth, teasing at it with his tongue. “Wanna taste you,” he said, barely audible, his mouth brushing her skin.

Just hearing that – him asking that of her in that breathless voice like he was already wrecked – had her halfway to coming, it felt like. “Yessss. _Please.”_

She was trembling, actually shaking with want as he backed down the bed, trailing his mouth over her stomach, and when she felt his breath against her thigh she had to lift herself up on her elbows to see for herself that this was really happening. “Oh god. Maybe I’m the one dreaming.” Actually, she wasn’t sure her imagination could have conjured up anything quite so filthily gorgeous as the sight of Bucky's face between her legs – hair a mess, pupils blown, tongue flicking over his lips – and his metal hand spread out over her lower abdomen.

“Makes two of us, then.” And then he put that tongue on her, tentative for just a second before he gave a feral-sounding groan and then his mouth was _everywhere_ : tasting and licking and sucking, trying every way he could move his tongue over and around her clit like it was his personal mission to send her out of her mind. She would have been self-conscious about the noises he was dragging out of her, but it was all just too damn good – and he wasn’t exactly being quiet either, his hums and growls and moans making it crystal clear that he was really, really enjoying himself.

In the midst of it all, she hadn’t paid attention to where his right hand was, until he pushed two fingers deep inside her and all she could do was cry out his name as the climax hit her like an avalanche, her whole body shaking as he slowed down, easing her through the aftershocks. “Holy fuck,” she groaned. “Holy fuck.”

“You’re so beautiful.” He stroked her trembling thighs, then kissed her stomach, resting his cheek there. “God.”

“C’mere. Need you.”

“You’ve got me.” But he let her tug him upwards.

“Want you inside me.” She moved a hand down, palming his erection through the front of his pants, loving the way he gasped and bucked his hips against her hand. “Please?”

“Oh god, sweetheart. I oughta be the one asking you.” Finally, he unfastened his pants and kicked them off, his underwear going with them, though she couldn’t get as good a look at him as she wanted, and he didn’t move any closer.

“Well, I’m asking,” she replied, lifting herself up so she could kiss him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean. But if it’s too much…”

“Just don’t wanna… It’s been a long, long time, doll. Don’t want to let you down.”

Hearing her own laugh, she realized she sounded a little unhinged. Maybe he’d broken her brain. “Bucky fucking Barnes, you just made me come harder than I think I’ve ever come in my _life_. No letdowns here.”

“You sure?” he asked, sounding like he was close to a nervous laugh. “Got me so worked up here, this might all be over in about a minute.” But he was moving over her, lining himself up.

“So?” she replied, stroking his hair with a still slightly shaky hand. “This isn’t a dream. I’m not gonna disappear at the stroke of midnight. Just wanna…” Her last word got lost in a moan, as he finally pushed the head of his cock inside her, moving so slowly it felt like an exquisite sort of torture. He hadn’t really let her see him, but he was big, thick enough that the stretch might have been almost too much if she hadn’t been so wet, so desperate for him.

“ _Darcy_ ,” he gasped. “Fuck… so good. I can’t…” Seating himself all the way inside her, he held himself still, though she could feel the tension practically vibrating through his shoulders and back as his eyes rolled back into his head for a second. “Don’t move… feels too fucking good.” Screwing his eyes tight shut, he took a few long, deliberate breaths, and Darcy felt like she could almost come again just from that, the feeling of him holding himself deep inside her and the knowledge that this beautiful man was so overcome by her that he was struggling not to finish too soon. She was torn between wanting to stay like that forever, and wanting to make him fall apart.

Finally, he opened his eyes – and he kept them open as he slowly pulled almost all the way out and then thrust back home, kept those wide blue eyes fixed on hers, holding her gaze even when the pleasure made her want to tilt her head back and close her eyes. In, out, in, out, and she swore she could feel every ridge and vein and contour of his cock with every move. He repeated her name, sounding like something between a plea and a whimper now, and in response she arched her hips into his and tightened her muscles around him. “I’ve got you, Bucky. Let me feel you. Want to feel you come.”

“I’m gonna.” His next thrust was faster, a hard snap of his hips into hers, and it felt fucking _glorious_. “Gonna come for you.”

“Yesssss,” she hissed. “Harder.”

“Oh god. Fuck.” Bringing his forehead down to her shoulder, he picked up the pace, making her bed rattle against the wall and drawing keening noises out of her as his cock hit nerve endings she’d barely known she had. “Wanna feel you too.”

She started sliding her own fingers between their bodies, but Bucky took the hint and got his own there first, resting his thumb against her clit and giving her just that bit of extra contact she needed, her second climax rolling over her just before Bucky gave one last thrust and let go, his cock pulsing hard inside her as he muffled a primal sort of noise, almost a shout, against her shoulder and her hair.

For a while they just stayed there, exactly like that, his cock still inside her, both of them struggling to catch their breath. She could feel his heart pounding, and the little shivers that ran through him as she ran her fingertips over his shoulders and back. “And you thought you might let me down?” she eventually managed, not quite having enough breath back to really laugh.

“Was that okay?”

She would have laughed – for real this time – but she could hear in his tone that it was a real question. “Okay?” she echoed. “You better have meant it about this not just being a tonight thing, because you have seriously ruined me for all other anyone.”

With a soft groan, he pulled out of her, then rolled onto his back, curling his left arm around her as she laid her head in the crook of his shoulder and draped her arm across his midsection. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mmm.” She planted a sleepy kiss on Bucky’s chest, just past where the scar tissue ended. “Best Christmas ever.”


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky usually woke up quickly, but this time he was trying to hang onto sleep, onto the dream he’d been having. And then his senses kicked in and he realized it hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. He was in a bed far softer and warmer than his own, and Darcy’s naked body was draped halfway over his. It had all actually happened.

It was early still, barely light out, and he could see snow falling heavily outside the window. Darcy’s face was soft in sleep, makeup smudges round her eyes, mouth still stained red with the last traces of her lipstick. He was amazed any of it was left, after all the kissing – and everything else – they’d done the night before, and the memory made him press his lips together, as if he could still feel her there.

He didn’t want to wake her up, but he did need to use the washroom; moving as slowly as he could, he gingerly withdrew his arm and eased her down onto the pillow. As soon as his weight was off the bed, though, she stirred. “Where’re you going?”

“Just the bathroom. Back in a second.”

“’Kay. Spare toothbrush in the drawer if you want.” With that, she closed her eyes and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders, clearly going back to sleep.

After relieving himself, and doing a quick basic wash with a facecloth, he opened the top drawer of the vanity and found a wrapped toothbrush with some dentist’s logo on it. Funnily enough, it was that little detail that struck him – not so much the toothbrush itself, but putting it into the holder next to hers when he was done. Even with everything that had happened the night before, it was the mundane intimacy of looking at a pair of toothbrushes that made it sink in that somehow, in defiance of all probability and expectations, he was part of a _couple_. Christmas miracle, indeed.

Expecting to ease back into the bed and sleep a little longer, he was surprised when he emerged and found Darcy waiting to slip into the bathroom after him. “Give me twenty seconds,” she said, shutting the door behind her.

She’d been in a robe, and it was still only seven-something in the morning, but he debated for a few seconds about what was next: should he be getting dressed? The bed was still rumpled, though, the covers tossed back carelessly like she’d been planning on crawling back in, so he took his chances and slid back under the blankets, but propped a pillow behind him so he could sit up a little, letting the covers rest around his midsection.

Judging by the look on Darcy’s face when she reappeared in the bedroom doorway, it had been the right choice. “Goddamn. I must’ve been really good this year. Santa finally brought me a hot naked boyfriend for Christmas.”

Bucky could feel his cheeks flushing and his cock starting to stir. “How do you know I’m naked under here?”

She pretended to think about it. “Good point. I think I’d better investigate.” Dropping her robe in the doorway, she crawled up the bed, a wicked grin on her face, and pulled the covers back. “Thought so.” She straddled his lap, took his face in her hands and opened her mouth on his, just taking what she wanted, and fuck, he felt like every fantasy he’d ever had was coming true. His body sure as hell agreed; it didn’t take any time at all before he was fully hard, sighing into her mouth as he pulled her in closer. “Mmmm, let me see you,” Darcy sighed, shifting back a little as her eyes travelled down his body.

It was clear she liked what she saw, even if he found it a little hard to believe. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks and upper chest were flushed, her nipples coming up in hard little peaks, and he had a feeling that if he slid his fingers between her legs he’d find her wet. Before he could check, though, she slithered back out of his reach, licking her lips very deliberately. Fixating on the look of her, he didn’t even stop to think about what she had in mind until she was settling between his legs and closing that mouth of hers around the head of his cock, running her tongue along the ridge of it.

“Oh, fuck me,” he groaned. “Doll…”

Wrapping her hand round his length, she looked up for a moment and gave him a wide grin. “Oh, I’m planning on it, Bucky. But first, I wanna do this.”

It was overwhelming, almost too much, and he felt more than a little delirious as she worked him over with her hand and her lips and that _tongue,_ dragging sounds out of him that he didn’t even know he was capable of. He had no idea how long it went on, but it felt like she had him balancing on the edge of a precipice, reduced to near-incoherence, his whole body practically ringing with delicious tension. “Oh god… so… so good… fuck… please… _please._ ” His fists were balled up in the sheets and his teeth dug into his lower lip before she moved her free hand to cup round his balls. And then he was gone, a groan of her name the last thing he managed before he was coming, spilling into her mouth as he finally let his flesh hand come to rest on her hair. “Darcy… sweetheart… fuck. That was… that was…”

“Mmm. Simultaneously talkative and incoherent.” Wiping her mouth off on the back of her hand, Darcy crawled back up into his arms. “I like you like this.”

Bucky laughed. “You say that like you’re planning on doing that again.”

“Oh, if it gets me that kind of reaction, trust me. I plan on doing that _all the time._ Talk about making a girl feel appreciated.”

He was trembling all over, but he managed to wrap a hand round the back of her head and kiss her thoroughly, not caring that he was tasting himself on her mouth. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll really show you how much I appreciate you.”

“I don’t know, this is pretty damn good too,” she declared, wrapping her arms around him. “But five minutes, huh?”

“Best guess. Not like I’ve had any inspiration to study _that_ effect of the super-serum. Till now.”

Darcy laughed. “So what are you basing your guesswork on? You and Steve comparing notes in the locker room?”

“ _No_ ,” he replied, with feeling, though he had to laugh along as she tried to stifle her giggles. “But… let’s say his quarters and mine share a wall, and once he started seein’ Sharon…” He shrugged and made a face. “I wasn’t _trying_ to listen in, trust me,” he added, when Darcy gave him a look.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind if you have a perverted streak,” she joked, squirming as he poked her gently in the side, trying to see if she might be ticklish. “But you’ll be pleased to know I’m the last one on this side of the hall. The room next to this is unoccupied.” She tapped the wall behind her headboard.

“Good.” But then something occurred to him. “Wait… what about all the people who stayed here last night? What rooms did they use?”

Darcy turned pink, but shrugged. “Everybody with kids was going home last night. If anybody else heard, well… whatever. Not like this is a secret, right?”

“You and me?” he asked. “Definitely not a secret. Wouldn’t mind keeping _some_ details to ourselves, though.”

“Yeah?” She ran her fingernails lightly up the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. “Like the way you’re going to make me scream your name before nine in the morning on a holiday?”

Laughing, he caught her in a kiss. Yeah, five minutes was going to be a pretty good guess. “You’ve got a lot of faith in me, doll. I’m still out of practice, you know.”

“After last night? Call it an informed prediction.”

In the end, it was a little after nine, but nobody was counting. By about nine-thirty, they were lying in a sweaty, sated tangle of limbs, and Bucky was just debating whether to go back to sleep or think about breakfast when his phone rang.

“Fuck, they’re not going to call you out on Christmas, are they?” Darcy asked, looking over her shoulder at the source of the noise.

Bucky shook his head. “Can’t promise it’ll never happen, but that’s a different ringtone. This is just Steve.”

“Oh, go on, then. Answer your bestie. He’s probably making sure I don’t have you tied up somewhere.”

“Not like I’d want him to intervene if you did,” he laughed. It was only a joke, but the sudden dilation of her pupils was interesting, something to file away and think about later. “Alright,” he groaned, when the phone just kept ringing. Leaning across Darcy, he found his discarded pants and fished out the phone to answer. “What is it, punk?”

On the other end, Steve laughed. “Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too, pal. You weren’t answering your texts or your door, so I’m under orders to tell you that breakfast’s up in half an hour. Main lounge.”

“Don’t suppose this is optional?”

“Nope.”

Bucky shook his head. “You sound way too pleased with yourself, Rogers. Alright, see you in a bit.”

“Breakfast?” Darcy asked, when he hung up. “Jane texted too.”

“Don’t wanna get up,” he replied, tossing his phone onto the bedside table and laying down with his head pillowed on her chest.

“Mmm.” She stroked his hair. “Don’t think they’re taking no for an answer, but nothing stopping us from coming right back here after. We can stop at your place and get you some comfier clothes, in case we want to snuggle on the couch later and eat chocolate and watch trashy holiday movies.”

“That’s assuming I want to be anywhere but this bed,” he began. “But the rest of that does sound pretty good, too. I do want to do all that other stuff with you. Movies and skating and laying on the couch… Eating breakfast with our nosy friends,” he added. “So long as you’re there.”

“Well, let’s go get some sustenance. Can’t have my super-soldier boyfriend running out of steam on me,” she joked. “Hey, you know what? Let’s go and get there first. Steal the whole tray of French toast and hold it hostage if anybody doesn’t know when to start minding their own business.”

Grabbing her hand, he kissed her palm, before sitting up and reaching for his discarded clothing. “I like the way you think, doll.”

By the time they untangled themselves, stopped at Bucky’s apartment to get him a change of clothing – which involved some distractions along the way – and made it to the lounge, they were still among the last to arrive. “Merry Christmas, everybody,” Darcy called out, when they walked in holding hands and were greeted by a few catcalls and wolf whistles and shit-eating grins. “I got what I asked Santa for!”

Bucky knew his cheeks were turning red, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Darcy shouting out to the whole world that she was his girl was about the best Christmas gift he could have dreamed of. As the others turned their attention back to their breakfast plates, he caught her before she could get to the food table, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and bending down to brush his mouth against the shell of her ear. “I’m crazy about you, you know.”

She tipped her head back against his shoulder. “Likewise. Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

He tightened his hold on her, not caring who was looking. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

_Merry Christmas, everybody, and a Happy New Year too_

_May your holidays be merry, and every wish come true_

_May you always be remembered by those so dear to you_

_Merry Christmas, everybody, and Happy New Year all year through_

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew... managed to get this all posted just in time for Solstice. Thanks for joining me on this little holiday ride, and wishing you a wonderful holiday, whichever ones you celebrate!


End file.
